


Indictus

by Intent_To_Stay



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, Minor Violence, Post-Tsukiyama Operation, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:56:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intent_To_Stay/pseuds/Intent_To_Stay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Tsukiyama Operation, Arima and Kaneki talk. What's more important is the things Kaneki didn't say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indictus

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt "things you didn’t say at all." TW for a somewhat abusive relationship.

It’s a normal meeting. As normal as can be.

            The operation had resulted in so many heavy losses. A good number of ghouls were dead, but that didn’t appease anyone. The heirs had escaped. So many had died. Aogiri had taken advantage and slaughtered squads and raided corpses.

            Aogiri. Kaneki mused the thought. What a pretty name. All subtle distinctions and flowing vowels. That was why he was here. He, a lowly first class, had fought the leader of Aogiri. He a lowly half-ghoul had fought his own kind and eaten her half-corpse.

            She tasted sickening.

            They called his attention. Arima did, specifically. “Haise.”

            God, what an annoying name. Sharp and hissing and clicking like monotony and fake smiles. Who had come up with that one?

            He glanced over. “Yes, Special Class Arima?” He hadn’t forgotten his manners. They were drilled into his head. Arima was god here. He didn’t need manners. Not to call on his pet. Oh, Ui grimaced. Did he look ugly? Kaneki smiled for the all the piranhas.

            Arima didn’t speak for a moment. He let the pressure simmer and build.

            A while ago it would have made him nervous. Now it was just annoying. He didn’t stop smiling. Arima looked beautiful today. Dull glass eyes and marble cut bones. Balanced like death. Eager to collect, but patient. What a virtuous death-god.

            “Please give your report.”

            Kaneki stood up. The smile fell off his face like a discarded mask. Who gave a fuck? It’s not like it fit well. “I ascended to the roof with permission of my superiors to cut off the heir. When he appeared, I engaged with him and we fought.” Honestly, they talked more than they fought. It was nice to see Tsukiyama be something other than selfish. Refreshing. He still too dramatic.

            “I defeated him, but before I could exterminate him, Rose ambushed me.” Ambushed. That was another pretty word. Zombie: Beautiful in comparison to the wreck of seeping and bleeding emotion he had to deal with. What an annoying piece of trash. “We fought.”

            “You were in my head,” Kaneki said silently. “The real you. In all your cruel glory.”

            “How did Rose ambush you?” Arima said. It wasn’t a question. It was a knock down.

            Kaneki wasn’t even angry. It shouldn’t have happened. He was just too busy dealing with his fucked up head to notice anything. He smiled again, eyes closed so he didn’t have to see Arima’s face dripping with gore and flower petals. Hello, hallucinations. He did miss that about Haise. His imagination was pretty innocuous. He didn’t have enough material to craft something monstrous

            “I apologize. It won’t happen again.”

            Arima stared at him dully. Silence. No one interrupted. Arima tilted his head, and Kaneki hated how he could immediately tell what it said.

_Fine. Go. Hurry._

            Kaneki spoke smoothly. Rose. Owl. Rose again. Owl.

            “Did you recognize their identity or any distinguishing characteristics?”

            Hmm, how to lie here? Too much detail and his plans would be ruined. Too little was suspicious. “It was female,” Kaneki said. “It had light hair. I’m sorry; I wasn’t able to distinguish more than that.”

            The investigators hadn’t gotten their hopes up.

            “We fought. She knew my name.” Hmm. Everyone tensed at that. It almost made him laugh. “I cut her in half.”

             Kaneki could almost hear the buzz of their thoughts.

            “I’d normally say that was a fatal wound, but Owl’s ranking lends to the theory that they could survive such a thing.”

            Matsuri had to butt in. He wanted to pull everything down so he could be considered tall. What a hyena. “An injury to a kakuja’s exoskeleton doesn’t matter.”

            Kaneki hummed. “Ah, forgive me. You misunderstand. I cut Owl’s real body.” He gestured to his hip. “Approximately here.”

            That shut everyone up. He really just wanted to be done here.

            Of course, people wouldn’t stop picking at him. “Ui said you ate the remainder of Owl’s Kakuja,” Matsuri pressed. “What is your reasoning behind that?”

            “I was hungry,” wouldn’t satisfy anyone. They didn’t know hunger. Not in any way, shape, or form. They also didn’t know Kaneki; he was predictable. He ate the things that scared him and then he feared himself.

            “I sustained injuries during my fights. I needed to replenish my RC cells.”

            Kaneki really just wanted to eat. Replenishing had nothing to do with it.

            People were satisfied with that. Utilitarian to the core. Morals were a lovely thing that no one had time for. No more questions. Good. He could get back to thinking.

            People talked. Casualties were weighed. Some politics occurred—Kaneki ignored that. The meeting ended. People filed out and went off to lunch. Arima asked him to stay behind.

            Wonderful.

            Arima didn’t speak. He merely hopped up on the table. Kaneki followed.

            It was simple. They talked about the owl. Kaneki hid the fact that his skin crawled whenever Arima’s hand brushed over it while they were sparring. They were moving too quickly for his disgust to be given the time of day.

            It wasn’t so much that Arima disgusted him. He was disgusting, for a various reasons. Arima just reminded him why.

            “How are the quinx?”

            Kaneki wasn’t quite sure. Urie hated him. Shirazu was dead and unburied. Saiko was still despondent and Kaneki didn’t know how to console her. He didn’t know if he wanted to. The only one that seemed stable in any way was Mitsuki, but he could be faking. Kaneki hadn’t exactly stuck around long enough to discern it. He snuck in late and left early.

            He didn’t want to look at any of them. They were distractions at best.

            “They’re resilient.” Kaneki knew that much. Moreso than he had ever been. “They’ll live.”

            He didn’t know how to say, “I can’t live with them. I need a new place.” He sidestepped a blow. Oh well. He didn’t need to tell anyone yet.

            “How are your injuries?” A jab at his eye. What a dirty trick.

            Kaneki slid underneath it and smoothly replied with a roundhouse kick. “They’re fine.” He flinched at the way his voice came out. Sugared and sweet and such a complete and utter lie.

            The kick didn’t land.

            They blurred back into motion. It was one of their patterns. Kaneki fell into it. The familiarity. He let Haise’s old feelings grow like a fungus. A little flicker of contentment. Love, maybe. All sorts of little feelings that made him drop his guard. Because feelings were a thing that blurred and blurred all the lines. It’s why he couldn’t look at the Quinx. He knew he should feel less and more and the dissonance made him sick.

            What a sick joke.

            Arima broke the pattern. He should have kicked, but instead he swiped at his feet. Discarded his pen. Grabbed a wrist. Twirled and locked joints back upon bone. Used gravity and momentum to pin him to the floor.

            His arms were wrenched behind his back. The wind knocked out of his chest painfully. His cheek ground into the floor.

            Kaneki didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

            Arima slowly pulled off his glove. He let it drop to the side. Then he drew Kaneki’s sleeve up. It scraped every inch. He saw it. Kaneki knew he did. Red scaly flesh and distorted bone structure.

            Curious. If Kaneki just let his eyes blur, he could pretend this was a nightmare. The floors were checkered. He was bound and helpless and Jason was just having his fun. It was more horrifying, but more comforting.

            After all, he killed Jason.

            He ate him.

            He couldn’t kill Arima. Arima was too strong. Kaneki was too weak.

            “Haise.”

            Kaneki breathed. It was shuddering and shallow. Feelings were pointless, but they were stubborn. Just as Haise could not kill Hinami, Kaneki could not harm Arima. It made him sick to his stomach. He loved the person that killed him. Like his mother.

            “Haise.”

            Kaneki wanted to scream. He pushed it down. He didn’t try. He just laid there, motionless, with phantom sounds and sensations crawling through his flesh. He couldn't escape the present, though, and that was the most horrifying.

            Arima didn’t love him. He would kill him. Shove a pike through his skull and out the other side and _really_ make him into a quinque. Was it bad to feel like that made him useful?

            Kaneki had to play out everything correctly. He had to reveal everything at the right moment. And then he had to die. And he wanted Arima to be the one to do it. He wanted to repent for his mistake.

            “Haise.”

            That word wormed into his ear. “Yes,” he croaked. His vocal cords were tense enough to tear. Air ripped out of them.

            “What is this?”

            Kaneki laughed. It bubbled up, slight and small and nearly silent. It could be mistaken for minute convulsions. “I don’t know.”

            The grip on his wrists tightened. And then the weight from his back was gone. Kaneki didn’t move for a second. He was waiting in anticipation for something to stab through the back of his head.

            “Get up.”

            Kaneki got up. He couldn’t see anything. It wasn’t an issue with his eyes. He just wasn’t there to see. He didn’t look at Arima. He tugged his sleeve back down. Slowly retrieved his glove from the ground and pulled it over wretched skin.

            “Have you been to medical?” His voice sounded accusing.

            “No.”

            “Were you intending to go?”

            Ah, so he was being scolded. Was it sick to latch onto that? The idea that Arima cared? Because he did. He felt the smallest hint of a smile worm onto his lips. How fucked up a wish. He shook his head like a little child. He felt vaguely smug.

            There was a loud crack. His head snapped to the side. Pain flared up and burned across his face. He kept his cheek turned. He didn’t reach up to smooth the sting. Oh, this brought back memories.

            He closed his eyes and waited, that smile still painted onto his lips.

            Kaneki was a bit curious. Would Arima slap him again?

            Arima pressed at the soft spot on the underside of his jaw. Kaneki’s head tilted up like it was on hinges. Arima stared down at him. Kaneki looked to the side.

            “Haise.”

            Kaneki’s chest inflated and he gazed at Arima. Their cold eyes burrowed into his. Burrowed and burrowed deep into his brain. Arima looked beautiful and cold and alien and familiar. It was hard to breathe evenly. Memories were swirling all around him, disjointed and with no real rhyme or reason. Mother, Rize, Hide, Jason, Amon, Touka. Little clips of their words running wild in his head.

            “Go to medical. Now.”

            Arima stared at him a moment longer and then turned on his heel and left.

            Kaneki gritted his jaw. He breathed deeply. He laughed. It was bitter and short and hysterical and numb. Arima was gone, but Kaneki said the words he wished he could scream and yell and whisper hurtfully. He wished he could see some semblance of hurt or shock or anger. Anything to prove Arima was human and that he felt anything for Kaneki.

            “Please, quit with the parent act.”

            Because that is all it ever would be. An act to control him. It was his own fault that it worked so well. He still couldn’t quite burn that sickness out of his blood. He was working on it.

            “It reminds me of my mother.”

**Author's Note:**

> indictus (adj);  
> unsung, unheard,  
> unsaid, untold,  
> unnamed, unmentioned.


End file.
